


Xavier School: My Students Mutate

by SmartCoffee



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, High School, Humor, Mutant Powers, Mutants, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-10-12 17:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20567948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmartCoffee/pseuds/SmartCoffee
Summary: It's a story about a math teacher at the Xavier School. He's a nerdy guy but he's no pushover. Meanwhile, his students live in a bubble with other mutants, oblivious to what the world outside is like. Soon the kids will face danger from all sides, but will they be ready?





	1. Chapter 1

On paper, it really appeared to be a plum teaching gig. The private school was on a secluded 150-acre plot in Westchester County, upstate New York. The serene landscape featured rolling hills, flowing streams, and stately trees. The refined brick mansion that served as the school building was a welcome change from some of the schools I had taught in back in Brooklyn. And even ignoring all those cosmetic things, they were offering me an amount of money that was almost obscene for a high school math teacher.

Math teachers are suspicious. We have to be. Math tests are the ones students cheat on the most. That suspicion is a transferable trait. I looked up this school, the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, and nothing turned up. I checked teacher forums to find any mention of the school and there was none. It made me a bit paranoid because I noticed that whenever I spent about 30 minutes researching the school, I would lose my internet connection.

Allan Taylor: "Mr. Ali, brace yourself because this may shock you. All of the students here are mutants."

Me: "Oh. Okay. That checks out."

Allan Taylor: "Excuse me? I have to say, I conduct these briefings every year and that's a very peculiar reaction."

Me: "This is an expensive, private institution that shouldn't be sustainable. I hadn't quite narrowed it down to mutants, but there were only a few possibilities. I considered that the students might be severely disabled, but we both know that I only took one special education course, so it wouldn't make any sense for you to hire me. Another one was that you were training elite military cadets. But mutants is also a reasonable possibility."

Allan Taylor: "Does it bother you to teach mutants?"

Me: "I teach kids regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, national origin, et cetera. One more category doesn't make a difference. Anyway, things like x cubed plus x squared rarely make sense to anyone at first. They are in the same place as the other students I've taught. But there is one thing, do some of your students have claws?"

Allan Taylor: "Yes. Why?"

Me: "Well, we're going to have to figure out a way for them to work graphing calculators without hands."

Allan Taylor: "I like you. You're crazy enough to survive here."

I always feel a little nervous on the first day of school. You can imagine that my anxiety would be heightened considering I was teaching mutants at a clandestine facility. Still, it's not the hardest teaching job I've heard of. I had a mentor who taught biology in Lebanon. That was during the civil war. His chest still bore the mark of a burn that never completely healed. I was just starting to write an agenda on the whiteboard when one of my sophomores had a question.

Iceman: "You're not a mutant?"

Me: "No. Not to my knowledge."

Iceman: "You don't have any magical powers?"

Me: "Uhh, no. I mean, not unless you count always being able to calculate the tip at a restaurant."

Iceman: "But then why would you work here?"

Me: "It's actually very logical. Your school needed an algebra teacher. I teach algebra and I'm certified. Ergo, I'm working here this year."

Iceman: "Ergo - really bro?"

Me: "You don't understand?"

Iceman:"No, I'm perfectly familiar with the meaning of ergo. But like, why not throw in a forsooth and a perchance while you're at it?"

It occurs to me that I've barely looked around the room. I realize that the desks are all single-person desks arranged in rows and columns. That's good. I don't want tables of four. Too much chatter.

Jean Grey: "Do you have a girlfriend?"

Me: "It would be unprofessional for me to discuss my personal life."

Jean Grey: "C'mon. All our teachers put up pictures of like their husbands or wives or boyfriends."

She wasn't lying. I had been in some of the other classrooms and there were family pictures. Frankly, you'd be likely to see pictures like that in any school in America. But I'm just a very private person.

Jean Grey: "What's the big deal if you have a girlfriend?"

Me: "That's not what I want to talk about. I want to talk about graphing."

Jean Grey: "Are you a virgin?"

Me: "No, I'm not a virgin. Not that there's anything wrong with that."

Jean Grey: "So you had at least one girlfriend, right? Or maybe. . ."

Me: "You need to know that there is an x-axis and y-axis."

Nightcrawler: "Sounds like my man is hung up on his ex-axis!"

Class in unison: "Nightcrawler!!!"

The kid with the zinger has blue skin and a tail. I'm not going to make fun of him. I should be mature anyway but I defintely don't want to be the bad guy.

Iceman: Jean, you know you don't have to ask all these questions. You're more powerful than that.

I didn't know what he meant but it was deeply unsettling just the same. "You're more powerful than that?" More powerful how?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -Flying objects  
-Secret meetings  
-School assemblies  
-And a vague reference to SHIELD

School Intercom:

Data Officer Williams: Code 1787. Captain Morris, report to control. Code 1787

In the classroom.

Nightcrawler: What the hell is a Code 1787?

Jean Grey: I don't know. None of us know.

Iceman: I know what it is. Someone's above us.

When I hear him, I think, what the heck does that mean? Is some supervillain flying over the roof? Or is this kid suddenly coming to terms with his higher power?

I just go on teaching. But no one is listening. Granted, point-slope equations are hardly riveting. Yet I can see the kids are unusually antsy. One boy keeps scratching his sideburns. One girl is nibbling on her fingernails. A couple kids are texting but that's like background noise. If none of them were texting, I'd be really worried.

Ugh, what's that noise? It's like the sound of a phone call from a basement. Crackle crackle. Duh, it's just the intercom that the school uses for announcements.

Ms. Perez: Announcement for all students and staff. There will be a schoolwide meeting today instead of seventh period classes. After sixth period, report to the multi-purpose room. When the meeting is over, we will follow the regular bell schedule for the remainder of the day. Thank you.

I freaking hate meetings and assemblies. It throws off my whole rhythm of teaching. In a way, it's worse than a day off because with a day off, at least all my classes are on the same section of the book. But now my seventh period is going to be behind until I catch them up.

I walk in to this 'schoolwide meeting' and I don't know what it is about but it sure isn't about prom.

Vice-Principal Taylor: An unmarked black helicopter flew over the main campus and two of the practice fields today. There is no evidence it carried guns or ammunition. Our security officers quickly detected it. After 25 minutes, the helicopter flew away, heading north. Principal Xavier and I contacted our friends at S.H.I.E.L.D. They assured us that there are no on-going actions or threats in our neighborhood. Still, they reminded us to be vigilant and report back any changes in the situation. We did not contact the state or local police but we could if we decide that would be helpful. Yes, Mr. Drake?

Iceman: Actually, sir, I like to be called Iceman.

Vice-Principal Taylor: Is there a question, Mr. Drake?

Iceman: Isn't there some protection we have that keeps planes and helicopters away from us?

VP Taylor: Yes. We have an agreement with the government that flightpaths be directed away from the Xavier School. This helicopter might have just been off its course.

Ms. Perez: Do you really believe that?

VP Taylor: It's not a question of what I believe. It's possible the helicopter was lost. It was on an improper flightpath and it was not armed.

Nightcrawler: But it also could have been anti-mutant terrorists. Isn't that also 'possible?'

VP Taylor: Look, if this weren't a security concern for the school, we wouldn't have had this meeting. But we need to be careful about jumping to conclusions. This is a lesson for the immediate future and a life lesson. The world is a dangerous place. The night is dark and full of terrors. At the end of the day, you build defenses and hope that you're stronger than whatever's on the outside.

This brother did not just quote Game of Thrones to a kid asking about terrorists! The strange thing is how normal it all is. I've had lockdown drills at every school where I've taught since 2005. Six bomb threats. Even the helicopter isn't weird to me. My neighbors saw a mysterious black helicopter in my neighborhood over three weeks. It turned out to be an Air Force dad who got clearance to fly by his house so his two kids could watch. Still Kurt's question is unsettling because he has a legitimate concern and it appears that the school is unprepared.

Ding. Eighth Period Bell. The school day ends soon after and most teachers go home. The kids get a few hours to use as they see fit.

"All right students, it's 11:00 curfew. You don't have to sleep but you do have to be in bed."

There's a dirty set of stairs that lead to a basement. In that basement, I see just one lightbulb. There's a kid and it looks like Bobby Drake but he's in a weird black robe that makes it hard to identify him. There are three other kids there but I don't recognize any of them.

Bobby goes, "We always knew that the time would come that this school wouldn't be safe anymore. They can't protect us so we have to make a plan to protect ourselves."

Some kid says, "It's a blood oath." Grunts of agreement. Another kid pulls out a piece of paper. The last kid gets a three-blade razor out of his pocket. They nick their fingers and dab the blood onto the paper.

I wake up. I'm going over this strange day. Which part was real? The calendar in my phone says there was a schoolwide meeting during 7th period. When did I leave campus? I think it was at 6. The helicopter and the meeting were real. So my memory of the basement must be the dream.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt goes shopping, trying to be a normal kid, but he can't shake his mutant identity. Mr. Ali shows that he might actually care.

Kurt was at Foot Locker looking at hats. He picked up a Bulls hat and tried it on. Too red. He probably didn't know a single player in their starting line. He tried a Knicks hat. Black with patches of blue and orange. 

"Mom, who or what is that thing?" said a little girl with straight blond hair and a pink shirt.

"Hey. Hey. I have a name," said a shocked Kurt. 

The mother grabbed her daughter and headed out of the store. She silently mouthed, "I'm sorry."

Kurt stood in place for a few seconds, appearing unsure of how to react. He ended up putting the hats back neatly in their places. Then he trudged out of the store.

"Kurt. I didn't expect to see you here," I said.

"Oh jeez, Mr. Ali. How are you?" Kurt asked.

"Fine. More importantly, how are you?," I asked.

"Okay. I have to go," he said.

"I heard the girl. It's unfair," I said. 

Adults aren't supposed to call things unfair. They are conditioned to break kids of the bad habit of calling things unfair.

"Yeah. It's just . . . what makes a kid be so rude?" he asked.

"Don't know. I've only been on your end, not hers," I said.

"What does that mean?" Kurt asked.

"People discriminate against me because I'm South Asian. Or because I'm Muslim," I said.

For a few silent moments, we looked at each other, but not in the eyes.

"You're still going to be a jerk to me at school, aren't you?" I asked.

"You wouldn't want it any other way," he said.


End file.
